Burning Off Some Energy
by FenOnFire
Summary: Group counseling? What could possibly go wrong? (Slightly AU.)
1. Chapter 1

Inspired entirely by a comment on Tumblr.

Warning: Slightly dark comedy.

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><p>XR ran his metallic tongue over two points in his mouth. One, two. Pointy, sharp drill-things he filed off every morning before work, only for them to grow back during his recharge cycle. He didn't want anyone to see the file marks on days when he was less of a perfectionist, or not quite so good at hiding them.<p>

His friends had noticed that he wasn't as talkative as usual.

Was that really so surprising? He had trouble talking to his robot companions, too. While the organics suspected there was _something_ _wrong_ with XR, the other machines knew there was something _wrong with XR_. A small, but important difference. They could sense it, they avoided him, and couldn't explain why someone half their size suddenly made their circuits crawl. He knew why.

Another small, but important difference was that the drills had started to grow back while he was awake, and with this new growth came some new impulses. He'd see a robot alone, and start wondering how charged up they were. He'd see an electrical socket, and wonder how he could get a little boost from it without anyone noticing.

"That'll be sixteen unibucks, sir." The cashier bagged up his packages of D batteries. XR found that when he found little hiding places, he could stick one or two in his mouth and let the energy seep inside. Usually, this satisfied the cravings. It wasn't much of a boost, and lately doing it once or twice a day wasn't enough. He was going through a pack or two of batteries per day. XR was seriously starting to consider getting something with a little more power, like a shuttle battery. Anything to keep him from going after someone else! He couldn't recharge the batteries he was buying because his drills made holes and sticking damaged batteries in a recharger would start a fire or cause an explosion (as he'd learned the hard way. Fortunately he was able to put out the fire before the smoke alarms went off). That could lead to questions. He wondered how Mira was holding up.

Speaking of which, unlike Mira he wasn't going to burn out like a light bulb if he kept doing this. So, he wasn't a hypocrite for giving her that lecture.

After sneaking off to his preferred alley- behind a slightly shady nightclub- he unwrapped two batteries and set them in his mouth as usual. XR sighed quietly. This pack was old; that had to be the reason they weren't taking the edge off his craving. He went through almost the entire pack before it was beaten back to manageable levels, and set to work on the next one. The little robot was halfway through the third before he noticed that yes, in fact, he was slurping down three packages of batteries now. Oh well. He had it under control.

One of these days, he'd like to have this little problem eliminated.

* * *

><p>It had been two weeks since the whole 'energy ghosting' incident, and she was lucky to still have her job. Her life, too.<p>

Mira was glad Star Command handled things like this the way a police department would: she got away with a verbal reprimand, and was put on leave. Then came her least favorite part... mandatory counseling.

With an approved counselor.

That meant Dr. Animus.

_Well, it would help,_ she convinced herself. _I just ghosted the remote and now I can't change the channel._ It was a hard lesson, that she didn't have this addiction under control. Her first appointment was in a week.

It would be nice if she didn't have to go alone.

* * *

><p>In his cell, NOS-4A2 flitted back and forth. PC-7 was dull and boring, grating, infuriating. It chafed his ego. He really wanted robotic guards. He got vile <em>organic<em> ones. He wanted lights, an electrical socket, anything that could satisfy his preprogrammed need for energy. What he got was a special charging unit that shut off once it gave him a specific amount of voltage- the bare minimum needed to keep prison inspectors and robot rights activists happy.

Some fool rebuilt him. He didn't know who, how, or why, but that hadn't mattered. He'd fled the cramped laboratory the second he'd come online. Of course, the energy vampire managed to get himself caught and imprisoned only a few short months later, before he'd even found a decent lair, let alone stored enough power to do anything useful for himself.

If only there were some way out...

* * *

><p>Dr. Animus shuffled his papers, putting an old case back into a file and taking out another folder, full of upcoming cases. Mira Nova caught his eye. Tangean psychology was notoriously difficult to study, in part because their medical community didn't share much with the rest of the galaxy and in part because they kept their troubled or unstable individuals home (minimizing any chance of outside study).<p>

And he had no information whatsoever on energy ghosting. The Tangeans were content to keep such data to themselves.

Hmmm... was she the only person around with this particular problem?


	2. A Common Thread

Zurg took a sip of his tea, and put the dainty cup back on its coaster. Then he picked up the pattern, looking at it with narrowed eyes. He didn't know how to cable knit!

"Is there something wrong, Zeke?" said Ethel. She was the sweet little old lady who led the knitting club. She was also one of those absurdly old people, having outlived three husbands and four of her nineteen children, along with most of the original members of the knitting club. Ethel wouldn't say how old she was, but Zurg (oh, excuse me, "Zeke") had a ballpark estimate of at least one hundred and ten years.

"I don't know how to make cables."

"Oh dear! I do have a few spare cable needles, you can have one and I'll show you how to do it, okay young man?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely Ethel. By the way, are you enjoying your tea-of-the-month subscription?"

"Oh, Zeke, you know your way to this old lady's heart! The teas are lovely, thank you."

"You're quite welcome. Which one is your favorite?"

"So far, the cinnamon vanilla chai and the spiced orange pekoe."

Warp, or "William" as he was called at these club meetings, stared blankly into space as his boss rambled on with a bunch of old women about tea and yarn, dolls and smelly candles... and every other old lady topic there was. Ethel showed Zurg how to make cables, and true to her word let her keep the extra needle. _Great. More knitting supplies._ Warp already knew more about gauge, tension, circular vs double pointed vs plain knitting needles, thimbles, and other associated topics than he ever wanted to, and he didn't even participate (sometimes he made the tea and brought the cookies. They were his only solace in these dark times.)

"If we could get back on topic, Ethel, I do believe we were in the process of making hats for premature babies." That was Claudia. She was one of those old ladies who was best described as 'preserved by salt and vinegar'. She'd grown up in the Outback Quadrant, and was always suspicious of everyone she hadn't known longer than a decade or so- especially young men, a category that to her meant 'anyone under sixty-five'. Warp was pretty sure she knew who Zeke and William really were, but had the sense to keep it to herself. Actually, sometimes she impressed him by letting loose her acid tongue at Zeke.

"Oh, you're absolutely right! Where were we, round thirteen?"

"Yes, before you had to give Zeke a remedial lesson."

"Claudia, be nice, I'm sure once upon a time you weren't skilled enough for fairs and contests."

Claudia's lip curled ever-so-slightly. "Back then I didn't have _time_ for fairs and contests."

"Back to round thirteen! So we knit three, purl three, no increases this row, and repeat for the next three rows and finish with the lace bind off. Does everyone know how to do that?"

Murmurs of assent all around, and the club went back to their needlework. Warp was so bored, he was going crazy. He was getting a call, and excused himself. Warp stepped into the kitchen and answered. It was NOS-4-A2. _My day just gets better and better._ "Hey, Nosy, what's up? And how did you get my number?"

"Oh, nothing much, Darkmatter, I just have a little revenge scheme and wanted to know if Zurg wanted in on it. He's not answering my calls."

_Zurg probably put my number in his contacts._ "Right, well, he's busy right now so I'll have him call you back."

The energy vampire's eyes narrowed. "Busy with what?"

"Knitting some hats."

"_Knitting?!_" the energy vampire yelled indignantly. "Who knits in this day and age? He's ignoring me to- to act like an old fuddy-duddy? Do you know how hard it was to get this call? The nerve of some people! I ought to-"

Warp didn't find out what the irate robot ought to do because he hung up. He smirked and went back to the meeting, feeling much better knowing his day wasn't the only one ruined by Zurg's hobby.


	3. Chapter 3

Mira walked with a steady, even pace. To say her first session went poorly was an understatement. Dr. Animus wanted to talk about her childhood, like that had anything to do with her energy ghosting. How could it? She wasn't even really yelled at. True, she and her father had their differences over the years, and with their strong personalities that often led to... impassioned arguments- but craters, you'd think she was a traumatized survivor of abuse the way he kept poking at everything!

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe he was just trying to be thorough, and she was being defensive like she was when this all started. All he'd asked about, in the end, was how well she got along with her family. _Man, I could use a boost._ She pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to crowd out the craving with some traditional Tangean meditation. It wasn't helping; if anything, the craving got stronger. Soon Mira made it to the cafeteria, where she decided to get extra food, and maybe some kind of espresso drink. That might settle her down, getting energy the natural way. Natural was good.

* * *

><p>Dr. Animus considered the session a success, although he was certain in hindsight that his patient had misunderstood his intentions. She seemed to have taken the background questions quite personally... this could be a problem. He had found a probable personality trait that contributed to her addiction, and given the nature of the addiction it made sense: Miss Nova had a strong, often overwhelming desire to prove herself, to be better, and to be different from what she perceived as the stifling, inflexible Tangean ruling class. This trait he had seen before, though generally those patients were taking stimulants or performance-enhancing drugs, not sapping energy from a nuclear reactor, but the principle held. <em>Very interesting<em>, he thought, and wrote that down in his post-session notes.

* * *

><p>XR zipped into the restroom, checking his mouth again. "Oh, this isn't good," he said to himself, his optics flashing between his normal yellow and a certain shade of red. "They can't be coming back already!" It was now every two hours that he had to file the fangs, and he'd accidentally stalked a vend-bot while he was on patrol a few days ago. He hadn't done anything, thank goodness, but when he realized what he was doing he was so distraught he couldn't stop shaking. XR vowed right then and there he would go cold-turkey, and so far it worked. His processor felt like it was being trampled by a million angry Jo-Adians, but he hadn't bought batteries or stuck his fingers in any sockets or chased down any robots, so it had to be working. <em>Just starve the programming out, that should work.<em> He was having some trouble purging it from his system- it kept reappearing, hidden in other data. More recently, it started splitting itself up, somehow still functioning despite being fragmented almost beyond recognition, and was sinking in deeper, like fangs...

And so XR went out and got lubricated after work, which helped a lot, but then disaster struck. He was still craving energy- his programming constantly roared at him to get some, and this time he obeyed. He started prowling, ignoring Nebula's desk (something told him his dad would notice if the desk didn't bother him at least twice a day) despite the temptation. Soon, he was deep in the clutches of the vampiric programming, and saw his next target. Somebody was pacing down the empty hallway, murmuring under her breath. It was someone he knew. Mira was still wearing her Ranger suit, freshly-charged and alive with thick, spicy waves of electric energy. It was more than the little robot could bear. He pulled a cape out of his chest compartment and wrapped it around his shoulders before coming out o his hiding place. XR hissed and lolled his tongue at her, not caring that she saw his fangs and glowing optics, and wheeled at her so fast smoke came up behind him. Her eyes widened in shock. "XR!"

He crashed into her with his most intimidating and vampiric yell, which Mira would have found hilarious if he hadn't just lunged at her throat. She shoved him away, and he popped right back on her and sunk his pointy fangs into the shoulder of her suit- or thought he had. Instead his fangs got stuck in the ground, electric lines kept a tantalizing distance from his spinning teeth... She ghosted the rest of the way through him and jumped to her feet, then shouted at him again. "What do you think you're doing? How long have you been hiding this?"

"Huh? What?" Wait... Why was Mira upset at him this time?

"You just tried to bite my suit!"

"I... huh?" XR's eyes slowly blinked back to yellow. "I did what?"

"You _attacked_ me," she insisted, clearly expecting some explanation.

_Craters! What do I do now?_ "No, that was just a joke, umm... I gotta go, late for my dentist appointment, bye!" XR raced away, horrified. He attacked someone! And not just anyone, Mira, a member of his team. This was bad, he'd be found out for sure!

"Hey! Come back here!" Mira shouted after him, and ran after him. "XR!" What had gotten into him?

* * *

><p>Commander Nebula marched down the hallway, when suddenly that pesky robot shot past him, screaming and followed closely by Mira.<p>

He stared for a moment, wondering if he should stop them, and went on his way. No, he was not going to get involved in their shenanigans. It would just make it easier for the desk to find him.

* * *

><p>There was a bathroom, and XR turned sharply into it. "Ha! Mira wouldn't dare follow me in here!" he shouted triumphantly. The fear of manly toilets would surely keep her at bay!<p>

"This is the women's restroom, XR."

The little robot squealed and hid under the sink. "Don't tell Pops! He'll deactivate me!" he begged.

Mira's face softened. "I won't. Just tell me what's going on, I want to help."

He sniffled. "You do?"

Mira nodded. XR wrapped his arms around her. "Aw, thanks Mira! You're the best friend a robot like me could ask for."

She patted his back, smiling. It was a sweet, cuddly moment for them both. Then she heard a scraping sound and ripped him away, holding him at arms length. "XR. You _really_ need to see the LGMs." There were little dings in her armor where he'd tried to sneak a bite.

XR laughed sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am, right away. Sorry about that."


	4. Chapter 4

In his cell, NOS-4-A2 fumed. How dare Darkmatter hang up on him! That was his only call for a month! How was he going to escape now? The Rangers had learned from their previous mistakes: His cell had no accessible power supply, his guards were all organic (still! Even when they switched guards the new ones were just more squishy, smelly organics), and he wore an inhibitor- a new addition to his life after he attacked his energy machine in a fit of rage. _There must be some way out! I can't conquer the galaxy from a prison cell!_

He perked up, hearing footsteps down the hallway. "How did the session go, Drew?" one prisoner asked another.

"Ah, nothing special. We talked about my family the whole time."

"Let me guess: You had parents?"

"They weren't horrible, except for the whole 'eighty cats and black mold' thing. The house smelled so bad I slept on the roof."

"Ahahaha!"

The second prisoner turned to the first with a scowl. "It's not funny, Rick!"

"Sure it isn't, man, but eighty cats? Your parents were nutso!"

"Shut up, Rick!"

NOS-4-A2 saw a chance to inject himself into the conversation. "Where are these 'sessions' held?"

Drew, who looked like he might need to shower more than the prison's standard three times per week, blinked at NOS-4-A2 in dull surprise. The vampire had seen Drew around: this was his equivalent of a startle response. A weak smile was his version of uproarious laughter. In short, he needed some lessons in a properly villainous persona. An impressive temper could only get one so far in villainy. After a moment or two of awkward staring, Drew answered. "Depends on who you get. There's the guy who works here and if he signs off on it there's some people who get to leave the station and see someone else instead." The inmate sighed heavily. "I'm stuck here, though."

Rick giggled. "That's because you shot ten people, man."

"No, nine people and one guy got hit with a ricochet!"

Rick and his friend argued the rest of the way down the hall about whether or not a ricochet counted as a real laser injury.

_Leave the station_... Seeing a therapist suddenly sounded very appealing, even though he didn't need one. He was perfect. The vampire grinned as the others passed. He could ask for one, couldn't he, and if that worked there was his open door to the outside world... _Lovely!_ His next guard arrived, stood in his post, and nearly jumped out of his boots when he felt a steely talon tap his shoulder.

"Excuse me. I'd like to make a request, if you don't mind."

* * *

><p>XR rattled where he stood. In front of him was a door. It was not a scary door at all, just a plain purple metal door like all the others on the station. The scary part, which he watched with wide optics, was the small, innocent sign on the door.<p>

DR. ANIMUS, PH.D

Never were eleven capital letters so intimidating. This guy nearly had him kicked out over a clear-cut case of identity theft! The small robot extended a shaky finger to the keypad to open the door, and went inside. There was the shrink, writing on something on his desk. He didn't seem to notice XR, which the Ranger was fine with at the moment... but XR was five minutes late for his appointment and needed to let him know he'd arrived. He cleared his throat.

"Allo? Oh! It iz you again!"

"Y-Yeah, it's me." Never mind that he hadn't actually had a real session with the guy.

"Your vocal processor has a glitch?"

XR's head had sunk into his body. "No, I'm just under a little extra pressure this week."

"And so you have developed a verbal tic? Interesting..." The psychologist scribbled something on his notepad.

"Ha, yeah... So, what are we in here for, doc?"

Dr. Animus picked up his manila folder. "It says here that you've made the appointment for addiction."

"Right, I knew that, I was just testing you," XR said cheerfully. "Energy addiction is a real pain in the processor, if you ask me."

The psychologist sat up straighter. "Energy addiction?" Could this be the breakthrough he needed?

"Yep, I'm riding the electric dragon. Up to date on current events." He started to sniffle. "I guess you could say I like to get overcharged! Oh, doctor, please don't let this be the end of my career! I don't want to work at the Mall of the Universe, all my coworkers would be conspiracy nuts and I couldn't tell them anything because they'd make me sign nondisclosure agreements when I leave Star Command and then one of them will just kidnap me and hack into my hard drive and find out the awful secret behind our entire society!"

"...Which is?"

"I don't know! And I'd never find out because I'd be offlined!"

Dr. Animus had no idea the poor robot was under this much stress! Perhaps it was a factor in the addiction? "I doubt you will have to work at ze mall. After all, you sought help yourself, and zat is a very good sign." He folded his hands politely on the desk and adjusted his glasses. "Why don't you tell me how zis all started, hmm?"

XR regained his composure and flushed his dome. "It all started when I had to go check on this mystery cargo Zurg was after..."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow, sorry for the long wait! (and for this super-short chapter)

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><p>"Private Nova!" Commander Nebula shouted down the corridor. He marched up to the princess, file in hand.<p>

Mira, who up to this point had been looking a bit distracted, jumped. "Yes sir!"

"You've been assigned to a mission on Tradeworld!"

Mira brightened up. A Tradeworld mission? Yes! Those were always action-packed! She needed some adrenaline after all the boring traffic work. She took the file and opened it. Her smile fell on reading the contents. "Sir, this is... 'supplementary food cart inspection'? Is that even a real job?"

The Commander let out a little 'harumph'. "It is when the health inspectors can get shot for giving a failing grade! I need you to escort this man. According to him," Nebula pointed at the inspector in question, "One of the cart operators is a little too feisty and he would like our back-up."

Mira looked at the inspector. He was tall and impossibly spindly (his head brushed the ceiling, and Mira could probably fit both hands around his waist), giving the impression that several broomsticks had donned leather jackets and combined into a single living creature. His huge round eyes were pale yellow with odd green freckles, and his leathery skin was deep, murky brown. A straight sharp beak and straight, pointy claws rounded out his off-putting appearance. He wore a plain black suit.

"Pleased to meet you," the tall guy said. "I am Health Inspector Torix."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ranger Mira Nova, at your service." _Wow, I could throw him like a javelin!_ She thought. Her mind continued this treacherous path: _Wonder if he'd stick if I did?_

"That is good. Meatball Sam is a dangerous adversary and must be stopped; we must be cautious in our approach. I will wait for you in the ship." Torix turned and walked away.

Mira leaned in and whispered to Commander Nebula. "Uh, Commander, did he really just describe some food cart guy as a 'dangerous adversary'?"

"It's Tradeworld, what do you expect?"

* * *

><p>Warp had to tune out more old-lady chatter. It was times like these he wished Zurg didn't feel the need to bring him along. Right now, 'William' was sitting with a group of grouchy old men- POWs in this war on the minds of men forced to go along with their wives to craft stores, long ago resigned to the fact that their only reprieve was chatting about the latest sports game, or betraying the cause by requesting a personal article of clothing. They would have to await their counterattack- a trip to the hardware store, or going on a fishing trip... this was all Warp's imaginings. If you were to ask the other men, most of them appreciated the wives having a hobby. Several minutes into reading the paper, Warp turned his head to look at one of the traitors. The man's name was called, and he dutifully accepted his new pair of handmade socks. He grinned widely- they were the same colors as his favorite sports team. Around a half hour later, Warp strolled to Ethyl's side, and she pushed a hat into his hands.<p>

It was really ugly.

Unreasonably ugly.

Like "mocked for weeks if the news ever saw him in it" ugly.

_She doesn't expect me to wear this, does she?_ No disrespect meant to the little old lady, who was otherwise very talented, but she had terrible taste in color schemes. Hot pink and forest green might have made an interesting combination, though not one Warp would consider, if she hadn't also added fuzzy orange pompoms and sequins. "Uh, nice hat. Who's it for?"

"Zeke said you're going to be on Shragarak, and I thought you might get chilly."

"Oh, thanks," he said giving Zurg a brief glare. "I'll be sure to wear it."

What was he going there for? And did he really have to wear the hat?!


End file.
